


diplomatic relations

by poalimal



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 19:17:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4888858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poalimal/pseuds/poalimal





	diplomatic relations

 

When Thor was young, he would make Loki livid with tears everytime he asked him to come home with him.

'I would _never_ ask you to stay,' Loki said once.

And so they often parted on poor terms.

Thor no longer asks him to come along to Asgard, but he does...linger. If he promised a month, he will give Loki two. And no more of that tremulous hiding from the cold! Jotunnheim is always in an invigorating season, truly.

'You beast,' Loki clucks, drawing two fingers over his brow. 'If the aim is to end your life, let it not be on these lands.'

Thor gamely ignores the increasing prevalence of war, implied and outright, in their conversations: 'I merely went for a stroll, why must you exaggerate?'

'Thor, it takes _me_  the pace of an hour to walk through the hinterlands, and I find the view exceptionally dull,' Loki says. 'How many crumbling statues did you stop to gape at?'

Thor's face prickles with blood. 'Only a few,' he mumbles. All of them.

Loki gives him an exasperated look, pinches him on the side of his ear. When the All-Father had first sent Thor to stay in their cousin's home, Thor had not known that children here express their affection through nips, licks, and pinches -- that first summer he had spent frostbitten and incredulous and outraged. And ultimately indignant, once he learnt that the youngest Prince was only proper with him, and had no problem whatsoever with being kissed and petted and pinched by everyone else.

Loki's hands are cool and dry beneath Thor's cracked lips -- they smell of poultice, so dearly rubbed over Thor's shoulder. Skin-hiding-bruise, Loki said, switching to the awkward staccato of All-Speak. Skin-hiding-bruise, caused by snow-hiding-stone.

Now: Loki watches him.

Thor lets go of his hand. Looks his fill, and then beyond, till his thirst grows anew.

'--Thor,' says Loki. 'You have now been here three months.'

Thor says nothing.

The line of promise -- the line that says that Bestla was and will be Farbauti's twice-removed dam-sibb -- wrinkles where Loki furrows his brow.

'Your father will be getting anxious soon,' he tries.

'My father,' says Thor, 'will be in Valhalla soon.'

Loki flicks his eyes to the window. '--do you mean to prove the rumours, then,' he says, lightly. 'Do even you wonder at the treachery of Cousin Farbauti?' He is furious, and Loki's fury is not spent so easily.

'Loki, hear me as I speak,' entreats Thor, drawing him near. Loki is a stiff-knot beneath his hands. 'The All-Father will soon feast alongside our forefath--' Loki frowns. '--alongside our forebears. This is no treasonous thought, and its truth grieves me. I am not eager for his passing, for I love him, and his duties will become mine in his death.' Loki's face remains impassive. Thor lets out a short breath, tries again. 'When I am king, when Helblindi is king--we will not have time for each other.'

Loki stares very closely, as if trying to eke out what he has not heard. Thus Thor lets himself be honest, and lets Loki hear what he has not yet said: 'We will never have time for each other, if we are at war.'

Loki lets out a sharp breath. He is always surprised when Thor is observant; sometimes pleased, often annoyed, but always surprised.

'You dare--' he starts.

'It is not just, how we treat with you,' says Thor. 'The terms must be re-drawn.' It is not something he would have chosen to realise. But one need only look often, and honestly, to see the dishonour that has brought them thus.

Loki rises from their bed and walks away. There, slowing near the window, awash in the three Jotunn moons, Loki is still the darkest, loveliest thing in the room. His steps make the room tremble -- his steps chase at Thor's breath.

'Let not our way be blocked with blood, cousin,' pleads Thor, sitting up. The room tips and swims - perhaps he _was_ unwise, in walking so long. He takes a moment to gather his bearings. 'I do not...I do not think you would've hinted at war so often...if you did not truly want me to realise what has been going on.'

Treachery, the All-Father would say. But the All-Father does not know - and he will not know from Thor's telling.

'...I do not think I would yet live, if your father asked you to kill me,' Loki says lowly, not looking at him. Thor cannot decide which is more insulting -- his words, or the fact that he so clearly believes them. It is only the bleak line of his shoulders that dampens Thor's anger.

'Your death would mean my own,' Thor says, in a voice so soft as to be mocked. 'This my father knows.' This even you should know, Loki. 'He would not ask.'

Loki turns on his heel, towards him - his face cannot be read from this distance. 'How you prattle on,' he says, after a long moment, voice still rough and wretched. 'The ice-sickness must have taken you.'

Thor knows not where this leads. He waits in silence, letting Loki find his way to where he wants to go. A lesson precious bought, and with great pain.

'...You will be at least a fortnight in recovery,' Loki says, glinting closer. 'Terribly disappointing, I'm sure, but Heimdall will find a way to explain.'

'He will tell my father the truth,' says Thor, reaching for him. Loki a shade over his eyes, a blur of red and blue.

'He knows it not,' murmurs Loki. 'For I have hid you these past few hours.' He drags a nail up Thor's offered neck, bites at his chin. Cold mouth; warm tongue. 'Does that frighten you? That you are at my mercy?' He _is_ a terror - how he used to torment Thor when he was young!, all alone in a foreign realm.

But Thor is no longer so young - and this realm, no longer so foreign.

'To be alone with you?' says Thor, 'ah, Loki - that is the least frightening place I could be.'

 


End file.
